Denise swung her gaze back to Spade. “You must be filthy rich.”
He shrugged. “I inherited it, at first. Lost everything when I was sent to New South Wales, of course, but over time, I managed to get it back.”
She still seemed unable to reconcile him with the manor they were pulling up to.
“I thought barons were a smaller class of aristocracy. Guess I remembered my history wrong.”
“Barony was indeed the lowest level in the rank of nobility back in my time, but baron was also a courtesy title given to the oldest son. My father was the Earl of Ashcroft, the title I inherited after his death. But by then I was a vampire, so I never felt right about using earl as my title. That was intended for a living son, something I no longer was.”
Spade couldn’t stop the memories from thickening his voice. The last time he’d seen his father was in the jailer’s cell, shortly before being sent off to the colonies. His father hadn’t said anything to him. He’d stood there, his once proud frame hunched, and cried. Not in shame at the fate of his only son being transported due to debts that couldn’t be repaid, but in guilt.
Denise was silent for another minute. Then she said, “I don’t want to know what that house looked like that you gave to Ian because of me. No wonder you keep telling me you won’t let me pay you back. I probably couldn’t, even if I gave you every cent I had.”
Spade jerked his memories back from the past. “Will you stop fretting about that? Ian will likely offer it to me in a wager over something in the next few years, then I’ll win it back. Or he’ll want a favor and he’ll swap it in return for my assistance. Its loss isn’t permanent.”
She gave him a watery smile. “You’d tell me that even if it wasn’t true, wouldn’t you?”
Yes, he would, not that he’d admit that. “Nonsense. That’s just how vampires are. If you want something, it has a price, but then it comes back ’round again.”
Alten stopped the car at the front of the house, leaping out to get their bags from the boot. Denise looked away.
“You’ve never asked me to pay a price,” she almost whispered.
Spade felt something tighten in him as he stared at her profile. Oh, I want many things from you, Denise. Too many to tell you about right now.
“You’re not a vampire,” was all he said.
Alten opened his door. “If you will?”
Spade got out and extended his hand to Denise. She took it, then let go self-consciously once she was out of the car.
He walked her to the front door, which was opened by his smiling housekeeper, Emma. Then he let Denise know the last bit of the plan.
“I’m leaving now. Alten will stay with you for the next few days.”
Denise’s mouth dropped. “You’re leaving?” she repeated. “Where? Why?”
Spade leaned in, lowering his voice. “Don’t leave the house under any circumstances, and no matter what, do not invite anyone in.”
She still had that look of surprise on her face, but underneath that was something else. Hurt.
“Are you coming back?”
Frustration competed with another, deeper emotion in him. Did she really think he’d flown her all the way here just to abandon her? Didn’t she know him enough by now to realize he wouldn’t do that?
“Yes, I’m coming back,” he said, his voice rough.
Then he did what he’d wanted to do for longer than he’d admit. He pulled her close, tilting her head back and covering her mouth with his. Denise’s surprised intake of breath parted her lips, and he slid his tongue along them. They tasted even better than her skin had, and when he delved deeper, stroking her tongue with his and learning the curves of her mouth, her taste there was like red wine—dark, heady, and sweet. Absent the drugging effects of her blood, but somehow just as potent to him.
Spade let her go and spun around. If he didn’t stop now, he’d be carrying her straight to his bed, and that wouldn’t do for the rest of his plans.
He got into the car and drove away, leaving Denise staring after him.
Denise gave Alten a pointed look as she shut her bathroom door. If she hadn’t insisted that there were some places the vampire couldn’t follow her, he’d have taken up a perch right on the countertop while she peed.
According to Alten, Spade had given instructions for her not to be left alone while he was gone. At all. Thus she had a constant shadow in either Alten or Emma, except in the bathroom—and Denise was beginning to fake the need for trips there just to grab a few minutes of privacy.
Her feelings swung in a pendulum. One part of her was irritated that Spade had arranged for round-the-clock protection. If he was that worried about something happening to her, then where was he? The other part was touched that he took her safety so seriously—though was that because of his friendship with Bones and Cat, or another reason?
Wondering about his motivations made for an emotional Mad Hatter ride, and her moods were already out of whack from her period arriving two days ago. Why had Spade kissed her before he left? To keep up appearances to Emma and Alten that she was his girlfriend? It was traditional for couples to kiss each other goodbye, after all, and they were posing as a couple. Nothing about that kiss should have struck her as unusual, except she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Had Spade been only faking? That kiss didn’t feel fake. It was skillful, demanding, intense, and…promising. Like Spade was giving her a glimpse of what it would be like in bed with him. Or was it just the practiced kiss of someone with hundreds of years’ experience and it meant no more to Spade than the other acting he’d done in front of his people?
And the most frightening question: Which did she want it to be?
Denise ran the water so Alten wouldn’t guess that she’d just snuck in there to get away from him. Wondering whether she wanted Spade to be acting or not played hell on her emotions. She’d tried to think of Spade in a detached way the past several days, but it hadn’t worked.
If she were honest, she’d admit she felt a powerful draw even the first time she’d seen him at Cat’s party. Denise had been chatting with Cat when she suddenly felt compelled to glance up. A stranger lounged in the doorway, his black hair dusted with snowflakes and his intense gaze lasered on her. As she stared at him, the weirdest shiver rippled through Denise, like something important was about to happen. But then Randy called her name and Denise snapped back to reality, shaking off her bewildering reaction to the dark stranger.
Now, over a year later, that strange pull hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was stronger. Despite how she didn’t want to be involved with the vampire world, a big part of her wanted to be involved with one vampire in particular.
As quickly as that thought surfaced, however, guilt followed. Already Randy was no longer the last person to kiss her. Yes, Denise knew that eventually Randy wouldn’t be the last person to make love to her, either. But wasn’t it too soon to be thinking about someone else, and especially a vampire? It was a vampire war that had gotten Randy killed, so in a way, she’d be sleeping with the enemy.
But it was really you who got him killed, her guilt mocked her. You didn’t just drag him to a house filled with vampires; you also let Randy leave the basement during the battle while you stayed safe below.
Denise hurled the soap across the room, glad that it didn’t hit anything except the tub. If she found Nathanial and got the brands off, she could keep more people she loved from dying because of her. She could return to hiding from the vampire world and all the emotions Spade stirred up in her, but she couldn’t hide from the real guilty party in Randy’s death: herself.
In the next moment, Alten burst through the door, his fangs out, his eyes streetlight green, and a large knife in his hand.
“What’s wrong?” he growled, stalking around the bathroom. “I heard a commotion.”
Her heart, which had instantly started to hammer, now began to slow. “Nothing’s wrong. I threw some soap, that’s all. Look at what you did to t
he door.”
Shards of wood now littered the floor where Alten had busted the lock. His gaze fell on the soap, dented and resting near the Jacuzzi-sized tub.
“Oh,” he said. “Sorry. It sounded like you were in danger.”
Denise’s face burned. At least she’d been standing fully clothed instead of squatting on the toilet with her pants down.
“Can you, uh, please leave now?”
Alten placed the door back over the frame, leaving himself on the outside.
“I’ll fix it once you’re through,” he said, as calmly as though something very strange hadn’t just happened.
Denise didn’t say anything. She glared at her wrists, always covered with long-sleeved shirts. She couldn’t afford to keep waiting for Spade, and neither could her family. Her parent’s cruise lasted three weeks, and five days of that had already been spent with her doing nothing.
If Spade didn’t come back in the next day or so, she’d have to start looking for Nathanial without him.
Denise had just started on her after-lunch, predinner meal when Alten cocked his head to the side.
“Someone’s here,” he said. “I hear a car.”
Her fork clattered to her plate. She jumped up, ignoring Alten’s admonishment to let Emma see who it was first, and almost ran to the front of the house. It took a minute, due to its massive size and the fact that the kitchen was on the second floor near the back. Still, Denise couldn’t rationalize having Emma set the dining room table when she was the only one eating solid food.
Emma had beaten her to the door. The salt-and-pepper-haired vampire smiled at Denise before looking again down the long driveway.
“It’s Spade,” Emma said.
Denise shaded her eyes against the last rays of the setting sun, which shone directly behind the car rounding the final curve. She couldn’t see who was in it, with the growing dark and the tinted windows, but she’d take Emma at her word. If Denise didn’t think it would look too clingy, she’d be waiting on the driveway instead of in the doorway—but dammit, it had been five days! Five days with no call, no word, and no looking for Nathanial while she was locked up in the equivalent of a gilded Alcatraz. She had every intention of giving Spade a piece of her mind for this.
The car stopped and Spade got out, looking as suave and heart-stoppingly handsome as usual. He smiled at her as he approached, his dark brow cocked.
“Aren’t you going to invite me into my own home, Denise?”
She opened her mouth—and was knocked to the side. Stunned, Denise looked up to see Emma—sweet, petite, soft-spoken Emma—baring her fangs.
“Get away from here,” Emma hissed.
That was when Denise noticed the smell, acrid and wafting faintly from the doorway. Spade’s teeth bared in his own snarl while the skin on his face seemed to melt until it reformed into Raum’s features.
“Let me in,” Raum said, each word a furious growl.
Emma slammed the door, cutting off Denise’s vision of Raum’s rage-filled face. Alten pulled her to her feet without once deviating his gaze from Emma’s.
“Send up the flares,” Alten said.
Emma ran off in the direction of the main hall. Denise looked around, waiting for Raum to appear any moment. Oddly enough, he didn’t. Outside, an unearthly howl seemed to rattle the windows. It was enough to make Denise’s heart kick into a higher gear while the brands on her wrists felt like they were igniting.
Alten took her arm. The vampire’s skin was cool through the sleeve of her blouse, his grip light but unwavering.
“Don’t worry. That’s a corporeal demon out there, so he can’t come in unless someone invites him.”
“I thought that was just a vampire myth,” Denise replied shakily, absorbing this information. That must be why Raum disguised himself as a little girl when he first went to her house, and she’d invited him inside. Carried him, even. “Now what? We can’t just wait and hope he goes away.”
Alten didn’t have a chance to reply. Several booms went off, sounding like they were all around the house. Outside, Raum screamed, so high and loud that Denise covered her ears.
“Salt bombs,” Alten said in satisfaction. “I always heard salt burned demons. Guess that’s true.”
“I know you can hear me, Denise,” Raum roared from outside a minute later. “Let me in right now or I’ll kill every last person related to you! I know where your family is. You can’t hide them from me!”
Denise started forward, but Alten’s grip turned to steel. “He’s lying,” he said flatly. “Demons always lie.”
She chewed her lip, torn. What if Raum wasn’t lying? What if standing here was the same cowardly complacency she’d shown with Randy that night, and it would result in the same lethal consequences? And what was Spade thinking, booby-trapping his house with bombs custom-tailored for a demon? They obviously hadn’t succeeded in killing Raum. They’d just pissed him off into a frenzy that might result in her parents’ death.
Outside, Raum continued with his screaming threats. Denise was getting more desperate. Before, she’d had an agreement with the demon. Now it looked like all bets were off.
“I have to go out to him,” Denise said, tugging on her arm. “I have to tell him I’m still going to give him what he wants.”
Alten didn’t budge. “You’re not going out there.”
“You don’t know what our deal was!” Denise shouted, yanking harder on her arm. “I won’t let you get my family killed!”
Alten didn’t argue with her. He just clapped one hand over her mouth and picked her up with the other, carrying her, kicking, up the stairs. She could still hear Raum shouting about all the horrible, torturous ways he’d kill her parents unless Denise let him in. She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t even speak.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t risk you doing anything unwise,” Alten said, ignoring Denise’s muffled, furious grunts against his hand.
Almost thirty minutes later, Raum abruptly went silent. Denise heard the screech of car brakes, then the sound of the front door flinging open.
Spade filled the door frame in her next few moments. His black hair was tousled, as if he’d been running, and his eyes were bright green. He nodded to Alten, who finally took his hand off Denise’s mouth and his arm from around her waist.
She shoved Alten aside and then went up to Spade, slapping him across the face as hard as she could.
“What have you done?”
Chapter Fourteen
It wasn’t the slap that angered Spade. As soon as he saw Denise gagged and restrained by Alten, he rather felt he had it coming. He wasn’t even concerned about her striking him in front of Alten. Alten presumed Denise to be his girlfriend, so a lovers’ spat wasn’t cause for leadership concerns within his line. But what made rage shoot through Spade was the strength behind her blow—strength no human should have. And the sting across his face was combined with the scent of his own blood.
A glance confirmed it; her hands had transformed, curved claws replacing her nails and her fingers twisted into something like talons.
Bloody demon would pay for what he’d done to her.
Quickly, before Alten noticed, Spade pushed Denise onto the bed and clasped her hands above her, hiding them between the pillows as his body pinned hers.
“Leave,” he told him. “Keep watch on our guests.”
Alten left, wisely shutting the door behind him.
Denise had gasped when he’d flattened her on the bed, then the scent of her anger rose and her flesh felt like it was scalding him. He hadn’t been imagining it before, Spade noted grimly. Her temperature did rise when she was upset, and right now, she was furious.
“Get off me, Spade. I mean it—”
He released her hands and rolled off her, putting a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence. Then he nodded at her hands.
Her face whitened when she saw them.
“I couldn’t let him see,” Spade said, so low she might not
hear him.
She did, because she nodded once. Her gaze brightened and then she looked away from her hands, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of them.
“Denise.” Spade gently took her deformed hands into his grip, ignoring her attempts to pull free. “It might not be permanent. It wasn’t last time.”
She blinked rapidly and then her face hardened. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what you’ve done to Raum. He’ll never leave my family alone now. You’ve pissed him off too much.”
Spade got up and went over to the telly, switching it on and turning the volume up very loud. The demon had left at the first sight of him, which was noteworthy. The salt bombs must have wounded Raum enough for him to run from a fight with a Master vampire, which Spade would have relished. Still, Spade didn’t want to risk Raum overhearing what he had to say to Denise, if the demon still lurked nearby.
He sat back on the bed, leaning close to Denise so she could hear him above the blaring telly and trying very hard to ignore the headiness of her scent that said she had her monthlies.
“We know now that Raum wasn’t lying about tracking you through the brands,” Spade said. “Which means he would have followed you if you’d gone with me. Since that was a possibility, I left you here, both to see if the demon found you, and to keep Raum from finding out what I was doing.”
“Your plan better be amazing, or after those salt bombs, my family’s as good as dead if Raum finds them,” Denise said, fear and anger still sharpening her tone.
First Drop of Crimson - Jeaniene Frost Page 11
